


All of a sudden, I feel everything

by originalPseudonym



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble, F/F, also this is really short sorry, i mention some other ships besides scourge but only mention, this is mainly vriska centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originalPseudonym/pseuds/originalPseudonym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are Vriska Serket, and you are remembering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of a sudden, I feel everything

Your name is Vriska Serket, and you are drowning in memories of who you were and why you are as existence tears itself apart and begins anew.

* * *

 

You were less than a sweep old when you emerged from the brooding caverns. You were given a lusus based off your blood color, but you went on to tell everyone that it was because they knew you could handle it. You were lying.

You made a castle that took you sweeps to fully explore. It made you lonely and you wished for company that didn’t screech, didn’t come home with bodies in its jaws.

You were three and a half sweeps old when your lusus got too big to go out and kill for herself. You resorted to flarping. Remembering all the corpses you dragged to your lusus, blood caked under your finger nails, you shudder. You were raised on the belief that violence made you powerful. And it did, for a time.

You were nearly four sweeps old when you almost died by the hands of a girl with a shark-toothed smile, but she spared you and you hated her for it. She wore a mesh of red and teal, just garish enough to make your eyes water under your finger print laden glasses.

You were four sweeps old when you decided that, just maybe, she wasn’t that bad after all. She flarped with you. She only allowed you to go after those that were not-so morally inclined, but you didn’t mind despite your protests. The knot in your chest was not as bad when you had more reason to kill.

At four and a half sweeps old she had fallen asleep against you. She woke up and sleepily mumbled an inquiry as to why you were staring at her. Your stomach dropped and you clumsily kissed her cheek. Neither of you mentioned it afterwards.

She helped you find your ancestor’s journal and you both poured over it together. You made connections between your life and hers and you became excited for the daring and fulfilling life that was sure to come.

You were five and a half sweeps old when you were goaded by a mysterious man wielding nothing but white text. You paralyze a boy who wanted nothing more than to fly.

You faced the ghosts of those you killed, and you killed the one controlling them. Your best friend takes your arm and you take her sight.

You were six and a half sweeps old when you played a game that ended the world. You kiss the very same boy that you ruined the life of. You died, and you became a god.

You met a boy named John and created an unbeatable boss, just so you could be the one to save the day. You develop a crush.

You killed Tavros and watched his body fall. You were smiling when you felt something inside of you break.

You were six sweeps old when you died at the hand of a girl who was once your best friend. You met a John, but not yours. He made you soft, and then he died.

You were seven sweeps old when you forgave her.

You were eight sweeps old when you discovered her, broken and bloodied. White eyes where red, no, teal should have been. She had a red cloth in her hand, and she was lost. She described a monster worse than you could have ever been, and you feel a flare of anger and a throb of pity. You reconcile.

* * *

 

You are eight and a half sweeps old. People who aren’t you have beat the game, and you don’t care as much as you should. The universe looks bright and misshapen, because it is. She’s beside you, and you wait to resurface in a product of someone else’s achievements.

**Author's Note:**

> This is really melodramatic and dumb I'm sorry


End file.
